She could never stop thinking, could she?

Walking through a land of nots, stepping into a downpour of crows and clowns, as her mouth gasped and her heart cried out and both her paws gripped Wolf’s, her studious mind was packing it all away for later. All of it, every moment, into the boxes now. No telling when she might need these again. Musn’t go to waste! Later, she may need the word for the quiet warmth at the end of all things, and out would come their time in the Angel’s mouth. The face of a woman, not-shadowed...that would go someplace she could get at easily. Perhaps, right alongside...

[i]My treasure is that I’m still alive.[/i]

She could never stop thinking. Even as her useless body locked up in terror, and a hundred desperate screams failed to pass her throat, her mind held onto that one, shining thought. Amid the miserable wreck of her dreams, and crumbling of her present, she held on. She held on to something she wanted more than a name. More than proof against her own uselessness.

She wanted Lucien to have one more step.

Her arms yanked. Her legs leapt. Somehow, she pulled Wolf behind an upturned donut cart, the fallen fryer hissing in defiance of the storm. “Stay.” She pointed at the ground between them. “Stay. Anchor. For me.” They were now two, again. She with too many words, and her with not enough. But there was no time, and she hardly knew what she was doing herself. Out of her infinite repertoire of better people’s magic, she reached deep into her heart, and offered all she had to Wolf, and the word was

“Please?”

[Jackdaw’s clever brain activates [b]Let Me See That[/b] on [i]A Victory Of Crows[/i]: 
-Who made it, and why should I care about them? 
-What was this made to do, and how can I use it or break it?]